Beautiful War
by Tears of Ebon-Grey
Summary: She had decided to go to New Orleans on a whim. It was Enzo's fault, that smug, self-serving, loyal prick. And now that she was here, Caroline felt even more lost than she did before. It certainly didn't help that Klaus was far too busy wrapped around some redhead to even notice that she was there...
1. Part One

**Hello all! This is my first venture into the fanfiction world for a very, **_**very**_** long time. The last time I published a chapter on this site was almost four years ago. So, here goes! **

**I may be a little rusty, so constructive feedback is absolutely welcomed. This story is set somewhere in the near future. I have tried to keep it compliant with what we know now, so hopefully it won't be too AU when the Vampire Diaries and the Originals start back up. **

**This is a three-part story. So please sit back, grab a cuppa and enjoy :)  
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Caroline didn't know why she had done it. A momentary lapse of sanity, a complete loss of all her senses; she had no explanation, no reasonable justification for the torment she inflicted upon herself. Perhaps it was her unyielding sense of self-punishment. Perhaps a part of her liked being the martyr, the poor fool who always put herself second, who willingly and blindly forewent her own happiness for the sake of others. The pain was like a security blanket; it pushed her to remain strong, to be better than her predecessors. She was not blinded by hatred like her father, or devoid of compassion and human emotion like Damon had been. She was not a Ripper. She did not kill without thought or consequence, but nor was she an innocent lamb. Her humanity was her compass. Broken as it was, she still clung to the notion that she was not the monster fate had created her to be.

So why did she do this? Why did she make such monstrous decisions when it came to her own happiness? She was like a broken record stuck in a vicious cycle of inevitability. One way or another, whether it be her own happiness she pursued or that of her loved ones, Caroline would always end up heartsore. She would be the broken party, the victim of self worth.

_We accept the love we believe we deserve_.

The one time she truly allowed herself to believe that, to actually accept that maybe she did deserve an epic love, was the one time she was wrong. So wrong. So stupidly and utterly wrong.

It had been Enzo. That smug, self-serving, loyal prick; he had been the one to put the idea in her head. Maggie was his epic love. Elena was Damon's...and quite possibly Stefan's. Everyone had an epic love, a person they would die for, someone to kill and breathe for. A purposeful love. She had thought of Tyler during that conversation, thought sadly of the naive little dream she had concocted in her head. Matt. Tyler. Jesse. Hell, even Damon at some point. She had cared and loved for them each in her own way, but none of them had been that someone. She would kill for them, die if she had to to protect them but to breathe, that she did for herself. Caroline lived and breathed for her own self, not someone else.

Except _him_.

When he was around she felt light, as though the world around her drifted away. She breathed for him, lived for him and him alone in those small moments. She lived because he allowed it, because he demanded it and she breathed so ardently, sucked in such raspy gulping breaths just to continue living. Her confession had been her downfall, just as her guilt had been a barrier built to protect her. They judged and then forgave, forgot perhaps wishfully her sins.

_And your epic love, Goldilocks, _Enzo had sniped at her spitefully after failing to find Maggie, _have you found him yet?_

Had she? Truthfully, she did not know. She was young, too young to be talking of epic loves as more than a fantasy, as more than a dream of finding that someone she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Enzo had talked with such sorrowful longing. A purposeful love; Caroline knew she wanted that. She wanted to steal someone's breath, she wanted to be the reason they lived. It was why she was here. She had thought so stupidly, so naively that maybe she did deserve an epic love. She had to take a chance, a risk to see if love would blossom or wilt.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

How could she have been so unbelievably _stupid_?!

All she saw was red. Red hair, red lips; the way she arched her brow in amusement, glided her painted nails down his back. Caroline swallowed hard. She wanted to close her eyes, to forget that she ever thought coming down here had been a good idea. Caroline wanted to run home. She wanted to slap Enzo, to snap his neck and claw her frustrations out on his skin. He had made her think that –

Slowly, she backed away from the pair in the alleyway as she tried to slow her heartbeat, to calm her breathing. God, if he saw her! But he wouldn't, of course he wouldn't. How could he? He was too busy pushing her legs around his waist to care. And why should he care? They had never made a commitment to each other. Sure, they had shared a moment. Beautiful, short, passionate and as painfully haunting as it was, it was just a moment in time. Caroline had no right to be angry or upset. She had come down here on a whim and she planned to leave just as quickly.

Once she was clear, Caroline took in a shuddery breath and grasped the wall beside her for support. Her heart hurt, more than she thought it would. He had moved on; she would not begrudge him that, not after she had told him to never return, to never come back to her. Klaus had every right to be happy, even if that happiness was found not with her but some beautiful, brazen redhead.

Caroline quickly grabbed her phone, clutching it like a lifeline. As the cell began to ring, she tried to slow her breathing, to calm down. Viciously she wiped away the few lone tears she had allowed herself to cry, waiting impatiently until finally Stefan's familiar voice floated down the receiver.

"I'm an idiot, Stefan," she blurted into the phone, walking brusquely down the street. She had to keep walking, keep moving. "I can't believe I thought that this was a good idea."

"Why? Was Klaus not happy to see you, because I highly doubt –"

"See me?" she laughed, cutting her friend off. She was sounding more hysterical, more neurotic by the minute. "He was too busy wrapped around some redhead to even know I was there."

Saying it hurt. The words cut. She hated it and she hated him; people didn't make epic declarations of love and then move on after a couple of months. She hated him for making her believe, for making her want his 'last love' or whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. Caroline hated the rejection, the lack of self worth that slowly began to creep up on her. She was strong, a survivor in both love and life. She would not revert back to her old self. Caroline refused to let the emotions in.

"Oh," Stefan's long pause and hesitant tone made her stop so abruptly that she nearly bowled over a couple of tourists in the street.

"Say it," she said after the line remained silent for a few more seconds. "Just say whatever it is. I don't care if you think I'm stupid or unreasonable or –"

"I don't think you're any of those things. Slightly neurotic and upset on the other hand... I bet you're fiddling with your daylight ring right now. Doing that whole nervous, jittery twirl thing you do when you're anxious," Caroline winced at his words, hastily shoving her right hand into her jacket pocket. Was she that transparent? Stefan's answering laugh at the silence irritated her to no end. "You know, you're not stupid. Far from it."

Caroline leaned against the shop wall behind her, silently scoffing at the signage. Voodoo. Really?

"I feel stupid. I actually thought that if I came down here, if I saw him and he saw me that I would magically figure it all out," she confessed tiredly.

"And did you?" Stefan asked. "Figure it out?"

She licked her lips, biting down on them in frustration. Her eyes danced down the street. Art. Culture. Music. New Orleans was beautiful and vibrant and full of life. The street teemed with people, talking and laughing, some even dancing their way down the path, weaving between locals and grinning brightly at tourists. She felt like a black blight on a brightly painted canvas. Wanderlust began to creep its way into her bones. She hated that he was right. Klaus knew, even before she did, that in the end Mystic Falls would not be enough.

"I..." Caroline hesitated. This was Stefan, she reminded herself. He would not judge her. She took a deep breath. "I care about him. More than I should, more than I know is right. He's a bad person, Stefan, and I know, I know that we have all done terrible things but sometimes I think he does them simply for the sake of it. And then, then I'll remember all of the things he's done for me, all of the things he's said and I can't help it, I can't help but care about him. Something is wrong with me, Stefan. I just saw him wrapped around another woman and instead of being angry, instead of hating him blindly for making stupid promises about waiting for me and last loves, you know what I do? I _understand_. I forgive. And I hate him for that."

Caroline breathed deeply, rattled by her confession. She had never really opened herself up to the possibility of caring. That day in the woods had been a cool balm against the ever growing tempest of emotions that had been bubbling away under the surface ever since his family's ball. But care she did. Too much, it seemed.

"Then tell him," she pushed herself off from the wall, startled by her friend's reply.

"You are joking, right?!" she balked at the suggestion, rapidly spinning around to hide her face from the curious sets of eyes she had drawn in her outburst. She barely paid attention to the man by the newspaper stall.

"What have you got to lose?"

Caroline laughed. "Uh. My life, for one."

"Bullshit. He wouldn't hurt you and you know it. Try again," Stefan persisted, his tone blunt. She could just picture his face. Caroline wanted to hit him.

"How about my dignity then?!" she huffed out angrily. "I can't just walk up to Klaus and say 'hey, so remember that time you and I got freaky in the woods? Yeah, so maybe I changed my mind about never seeing you again and want you to show me the world or whatever'."

Stefan laughed. "Well, I wouldn't exactly say it like that."

Caroline practically growled, stamping her foot on the ground in irritation. "Don't laugh at me, Salvatore. I'm not good at epic declarations of love, alright?! That's his department. Liar that he is."

She breathed heavily, unaware of the dark eyes watching her. She was tired and angry and heartsore and yes, okay she was more than a little embarrassed. So what if she couldn't find the right words? So what if she wanted to grab him by the collar and throw him against the wall, hit him, scratch him, tear his spleen out and shove it down his throat. Or kiss him. Maybe she would kiss him. Caroline didn't rightly know.

"Well, as far as epic declarations of _love_ go I have always found that the truth works pretty well," Caroline sucked in an unnecessary breath at Stefan's reply. She had said that, hadn't she? "Feel free to ignore me here Care, after all this is your heart we are talking about, but I think you know what you feel. You're scared. Vulnerable. I get it, you know. You need to be in control, or at least feel like you have a handle over your own heart. He drives you crazy. You probably drive him crazy. At least tell him. Give him some sort of fighting chance. Hell, you told him to move on and he did and –"

"I know I did," she sighed, grimacing at the truth behind Stefan's words.

"And you regret it," Stefan said knowingly. "So fix it."

Caroline laughed, running a hand through her long curls. She let out a low breath. "Look at you, defending Niklaus Mikaelson of all things."

"Who would have thought?" the reply was soft and teasing, but she could tell the toll Stefan's advise had taken on him. Telling her to go after a man that had singlehandedly made his life a living hell –that was the mark of a true friend. Her heart swelled at the thought.

"Thank you, Stefan," sincerity flowed through her voice. She was thanking him for so much more than he knew, so much more than she dared voice. If only she could fall for a guy like him. Which, she kind of did in a way. Maybe her mother was right; maybe she was attracted to beautifully broken things.

"Go get 'em tiger."

She laughed, her eyes crinkling in genuine joy. The phone clicked off before she could make some smart reply. She stared at it, soft peals of laughter erupting from her lips. She probably looked like some crazy, mentally unstable madwoman laughing at her phone in the middle of the street. She probably _was_ a crazy, mentally unstable madwoman but at that moment, right then and there standing beneath the vintage Voodoo sign Caroline Forbes knew what she wanted.

Redhead, be damned.

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**I hope you enjoyed the ride. Forgive me for the cliffhanger. I do so love them. **

**Till next time. **


	2. Part Two

**Wow! The overwhelming support for this story has actually taken me quite by surprise. Thank you all so much!**

**Now, I have tried to make Klaus believable. God knows he was impossibly hard to write. **

**Let me know what you think? **

**Enjoy!**

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He marvelled at the shade of her hair splayed against his black satin sheets. So vibrant, so bright against the dark; her curls fell around her like a bloody halo. She was definitely no angel, more a devil made of ivory and fire. A distraction. His respite, as she liked to call herself. He hardly cared to correct her, especially after the stunt she had pulled with Cami. Genevieve was an ivory devil, jealous and impetuous, a necessary ally who was slowly wearing out her welcome.

She was a beautiful distraction, wild in her pleasure. She followed blindly, letting him take the pleasure he craved between her silky white thighs, confusing his lust for more than it was. Klaus didn't bother to tell her any differently. It worked to his advantage to have her simpering and pliable to his every sexual whim. He may not control her, but he knew the effect he had on her swayed her decision in his favour. Having the leader of the witches fancy herself in love with him made Klaus more dangerous, more protected from Marcel and the other street rats that sought to usurp his and Elijah's claim to the city. The dalliance would also prove to protect his child.

Eva.

He could hardly comprehend what the witches had told him. For such a tiny creature, such a small helpless little soul to hold such an immense power, he could hardly fathom it. Wolf, Vampire, Witch; Eva was a conundrum. She represented a supernatural trinity, the manifestation of the most powerful factions of the supernatural world all melded into one tiny creature. He would protect her at all costs. His child. His daughter. Only two weeks old and somehow she had managed to enrapture him so completely that he had to remind himself of who he was. He was Klaus Mikaelson; the original hybrid, not a fool blinded by love.

Klaus was broken from his thoughts as the soft vibrations of his phone rattled on the floor by his feet. He eyed it with disinterest, grabbing his discarded clothes from the studio floor. He knew Genevieve was watching him. He could practically visualise the self-satisfied smirk on her face as she lounged back, unapologetically stretched across his sheets. He could paint her. She would make a beautiful subject, lying as she was, her careless femineity tempered by the seductive heat of her eyes. Soft and sharp, sweet but deadly; oh yes, Genevieve would make a lovely subject.

His phone continued to vibrate on the wooden floor, irritatingly insistent.

"Could be important," the witch offered softly from the bed, smirking as he shrugged on his jeans and turned to face her.

"Probably," he shrugged. It was not like he cared.

Elijah was annoying him of late and Hayley was thankfully absent from the Quarter. She had moved to the safety of the Bayou, the wolves offering to protect her and his offspring until the current threat had passed. She was exactly where he wanted her to be. Hayley wouldn't call. If she wanted or needed him, she would send one of the wolf pups to find him.

With a frustrated growl as the cell rang for a third time, he swiped up the black device and glared at the screen. Genevieve laughed gaily and moved off the bed, sauntering into the bathroom. She revelled in the dark look in his eyes as he watched her close the door. Klaus Mikaelson was still a man after all.

"This better be good brother," he growled into the receiver, swiping a hand through his hair.

"If by chance you happen to have a rather unpleasant witch in your bed right now Niklaus, I would advise you to rectify the situation and remove her quickly," Elijah's superior tone grated at him. He knew that Genevieve was no favourite of Elijah's, there was no secret of the contempt the older original held for the woman, but he did so hate being told what to do, or rather _who_ to do by his big brother.

"She's in the shower actually," Klaus quipped, a sarcastic smirk on his face as he reached for a paintbrush.

He pinched the bristles between his fingers, fanning them out absentmindedly, as he looked at the blank canvas in front of him. He tilted his head, seeing the canvas paint itself in his mind. Black sheets, ivory skin and a bloodied halo.

"Indeed," Elijah's reply was unamused. "I fail to see the appeal myself. Still, it is no matter. I only wished to inform you of something I witnessed earlier today."

"Oh?" his disinterest was plain.

Klaus heard Elijah's suffering sigh and grinned. "I know that for the past few months things have been strained between us Niklaus, but I am your brother and all that I do, I do for this family."

"How noble of you, Elijah," Klaus interjected, jaw clenched. "Tell me, is it your sense of family honour that has you panting after Hayley like some lovesick fool or –"

"_Enough_," Elijah sighed tiredly. "Hayley has nothing to do with this. I called you because I overheard a conversation on the street. A young woman I believe you are acquainted with was talking of you on the phone and I stopped to listen."

Klaus barely paused in his ministrations, his hand slowly attacking the blank canvas as he painted line after line of black paint onto the empty cover. "I know a lot of women, Elijah. Be more specific."

"I do not know her personally but from memory I believe she was close friends with Elena Gilbert," Klaus dropped the paintbrush in surprise. No, she wouldn't – Caroline would never come to New Orleans. "Blonde, quite beautiful; I believe her name was Caroline Forbes. Last I saw, she was on her way to see you."

_No_.

That was the only thought running through his head as his mind struggled to comprehend his brother's words. Caroline was here. She was _here._ In New Orleans. Here and on her way to see him. It wasn't possible. No. Caroline would not come here, she would not come to see him. Their parting in Mystic Falls had made that perfectly clear. Caroline had plans, sedate and boring human plans. She was going to finish college, get a job, live her life as a human. She was shackled by the belief that she could live like that. He had accepted it, accepted her naivety because he knew that in twenty, fifty, maybe even a hundred years she would realise the truth, realise _his_ truth and come to him then. Not now. Not so soon.

"Niklaus?" Elijah's voice brought him back, startling him.

"You are sure?" he questioned, voice irritatingly raspy. His loss of composure would not go unnoticed.

His brother hesitated on the other end of the line. "She spoke of the woods and of changing her mind," Elijah's words were measured, careful. "I do not know what has transpired between the two of you, brother, but it would seem that you care for this girl in some respect and she is here now, in New Orleans, to come find you. I would advise against Genevieve being there when she does."

Klaus swallowed hard. He could hear Genevieve's soft humming in the shower, the tune of a song long forgotten tumbling from her lips as the water warmed her skin. The sound was like white noise as he quickly scanned the studio. He had bought the apartment as a means of escaping the compound, somewhere he could paint in peace, undisturbed by his brother or other unwanted guests. It was not some secret location. Most people knew that if they wanted to find him, he would be here painting or reading, or as Cami liked to believe, plotting world domination.

He grimaced at the thought of the blonde. Genevieve was unpredictable in her jealously. She absolutely could _not_ be here if Caroline was on her way.

Caroline. Could she have really changed her mind so soon? He had prepared for a century, not a few months.

Klaus hastily thanked his brother, chucking the phone onto the bed. He scanned the apartment. It wasn't too out of sorts. He quickly bundled the discarded clothes on the floor into his arms, swiping a hand over the bed to smooth out the wrinkles. It was almost ironic how numbingly blank his mind felt. He moved like an automaton, driven by the simple fact that she was in New Orleans, as he quickly cleaned away any evidence of Genevieve's presence in the apartment. The only thing left was the redhead herself.

A sound outside caught his attention. He froze, hand clutching the bathroom door handle. Klaus used his supernatural hearing to focus in on the sound. His eyes widened at the beautiful voice. _You can do this. It's not that hard, _the voice mumbled. _Just knock on the door. It'll be fine. I can totally do this. _

Outside. Caroline Forbes was outside his apartment.

_Shit. _

Klaus moved then, like a man possessed, as he burst through the bathroom door. Genevieve jumped at the intrusion, her eyes wide as she looked at him through the clear glass. He looked ruffled, unstable, almost manic in his desperation. Klaus wrenched open the shower, ignoring the redhead's answering scowl and turned off the water. He chucked her clothes at her.

"What the hell –" Genevieve started to protest, her mouth twisted in confusion and anger. She clutched her clothes to her chest protectively as she glared up at him.

"You need to leave," Klaus snapped sharply, grabbing her upper arm. He tried to pull her out the door but she twisted herself away from him.

"What is _wrong _with you?" she yelled, pushing his hand away from her.

Klaus stared at her for what seemed like forever but in reality only a few seconds had passed. He turned his head as if distracted by something. He swore, swivelling around. His eyes glowed yellow as he grabbed her again, yanking her out of the bathroom.

"Be a dear and do as I say. Get out. Now," he pushed her toward the window.

Genevieve scowled. She looked outside briefly, her eyes landing on the outside fire escape. Her back straightened and she turned to look at him, her eyes glinting defiantly as she moved away from the window, dropping her clothes to the floor. She stood before him naked and brilliantly defiant in her rage, a beautiful bloodied ivory devil set on disobedience.

He couldn't blame her. Not really. But he hardly had the time to worry about Genevieve's hurt feelings, not when the object of his affection was slowly making her way up the stairs.

She was so close. Too close.

"Sorry love," he whispered softly, moving too quickly for the witch to react in time. Her mouth opened in surprised silence as his hands found their way around her neck.

As she fell to the floor, Klaus eyed the closet at the end of his bed. He didn't stop to think of the repercussions. He had just snapped Genevieve's neck. He had killed the leader of the witches, completed the harvest ritual and for all intents and purposes broken the treaty his brother had fought so hard to build. He would deal with the repercussions later.

Klaus quickly lifted the dead woman from the floor. Her head fell limply to the side as he placed her almost tenderly inside the closet, covering her body with the discarded clothes he had thrown at her earlier. He felt a pang of guilt as he stared at her. She had deserved better than this. Klaus moved to tuck a wet curl behind the witch's ear, his fingers caressingly gentle as he closed her eyes. He saw too much judgement, sadness and fear in them.

A hesitant knock on the door broke him from his reverie.

He turned towards the door, suddenly anxious. He was Klaus Mikaelson; the original hybrid, not a fool blinded by love.

Who was he kidding? He was absolutely a fool when it came to Caroline. She made him stupid, so stupid that he had just snapped the neck of one of his most powerful allies, a woman whose protection had ensured his child's safety from the other witches in her coven.

He was the biggest fool of them all.

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**I did tell you I love a good cliffhanger, didn't I?**

**One chapter to go. **

**Till next time. **


	3. Part Three

**Firstly, I want to thank you all for taking the time to read and review this story. **

**As my first venture back into the world of FanFiction after such a long time, your response and support to this story has had such a profound effect on my confidence as a writer. So again, I say thank you. **

**This story was inspired by the song **_Beautiful War_ **by** _Kings of Leon_**. **

**Please sit back and enjoy! :)**

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Caroline twitched nervously as she waited, foot tapping furiously against the hardwood floor. Maybe he was out or maybe he was busy... Oh god! What if he and the redhead were – no, no she would hear if they were doing _that_. She had avoided using her vampire hearing as she'd entered the building for that reason alone. She'd blocked out all sound and just put one foot in front of the other, reassuring herself with every step that she could do this. She _was _doing this. He was taking an awfully long time to answer the door though.

Maybe she had the wrong address.

Caroline rummaged through her handbag for the napkin she had scribbled his address on. She hadn't really known where to start looking for Klaus when she had first arrived in New Orleans. She'd just kind of assumed that he'd be easy to find. After all, he was Klaus Mikaelson and the man that she knew was not one to hide in the shadows. He liked the attention far too much to ever simply fade into the background. So she'd headed to the first bar that looked anywhere half decent and simply asked around.

The bartender had been far too snippy, short and dismissive to be telling the truth when she'd said that she didn't know the man Caroline was describing. Obviously, she had encountered him if the scowl on her face was anything to go by. Caroline wondered briefly, as she looked at the blonde bartender and then at her reflection in the mirror, if the woman had more than simply encountered Klaus. But, after a short battle of wills the woman, Camille, had relented and given her his studio apartment's address. _Don't go to the compound_, she had said brusquely, _you won't find him there. _

So here she was...staring at a door, waiting for the biggest monster of them all to sweep her off her feet. Or let her fall, unceremoniously into an embarrassed mess when she realised that coming here _had_ in fact been a very stupid idea regardless of what Stefan said. What if he actually cared about that woman, that beautiful redhead that she had no hope in hell of competing with? What if he had moved on, truly moved on with his life? New Orleans was so different from Mystic Falls. What if it was too different? What if she simply didn't _fit_ here?

There were too many 'what ifs'.

Caroline impatiently rapped on the door a second time. A part of her hoped that he wasn't inside. It would be so much easier if he simply wasn't there and not actually avoiding her. She hadn't actually thought beyond confronting him. She hadn't envisioned what she would say or what she would do. If he turned her away, at least then she would know the life she had to go back to. But if he didn't, if by some chance Klaus didn't turn her away then Caroline didn't know what she would do. She had her mother to consider, her friends, college; Caroline hadn't stopped to think beyond any of that.

Until now.

It made her want to run. And she would have run, she would have fled without him ever knowing she was there...

"Hello sweetheart."

...if he hadn't of opened the door.

She felt as if all breath had been kicked out of her. She stood, mid-turn, eyes wide and unbelieving, if not a little upset that he hadn't simply let her run. Caroline exhaled harshly, one foot hanging mid-air, mid-step, mid-turn; it was almost as if her body had ceased to remember how to function, how to move of its own volition. She felt his eyes on her, knew that in her current position there would be three little crinkles indented on either side. She knew the lines of his face. She knew when he was angry or amused, whether he was genuinely happy or disgruntled. Caroline had watched him far too closely to ever claim ignorance. She knew that her mid-freeze would amuse him. She hated being an amusement.

Spinning around haphazardly, she slammed her foot on the ground and casually leaned against the banister beside her all in one swift movement. Casual. Purposeful. She acted like she meant it, like she had always intended to greet him thus. Klaus simply grinned, dimples and all. He wasn't fooled for one second.

"Hi," she breathed out nervously, eyes dancing across his face.

She would never admit it, not to him, but she had missed him. She missed the mischief in his eyes when he was around her, the easy smile he gave, the look that she knew belonged to her and her alone. How she could ever think differently, now that he was staring at her with that lopsided grin, not the fake smile he put on for others but the genuine one, the one that she knew belonged to Niklaus Mikaelson and not _Klaus_, was beyond her.

Damn him.

He stole her reason, her judgement; the very thought of him, of that day in the woods had led her to this moment. Once would never be enough. He'd known it. And now, now so did she.

"Do you want to come in?" he asked almost hesitantly, fearfully dare she say it.

Caroline licked her lips nervously, regretting the action as his eyes snapped down to her mouth. "Here's good."

She didn't trust herself if she went inside with him. At least here, outside, leaning against the banister for support, she could think somewhat reasonably.

Klaus nodded his head absentmindedly, his hand running along the back of his neck in a nervous line. Suddenly, he let out a breathy laugh. She started, jumping slightly at the noise. He looked at her almost sheepishly. "You've caught me quite off guard, love. I didn't expect to see you..." his voice trailed off.

Caroline tried to ignore the jolt she felt when he called her 'love'. She knew it was a 'British thing' or whatever. He probably called a lot of women 'love' whether in endearment or patronisation, even offhandedly. Still, somehow she felt as if the term meant so much more when it was said to her and her alone, by him and him alone. She felt as if he meant it, as if he truly meant that she was _his_ love.

"I should have called," she admitted with a weak smile. "I didn't...think."

He looked at her, eyes searching. "Good," he said simply, moving to step through the doorway. "Sometimes thinking is highly overrated."

Caroline took a step back. "And sometimes it is absolutely necessary."

They stared at each other for a long time, silently barraging the other with all the pent up emotion in their eyes. She felt as if they were screaming at each other, throwing argument after argument at the other without uttering a single syllable, without ever making a sound. Klaus seemed to come to some sort of conclusion, some sort of decision as he swallowed thickly. She tried not to stare at his Adam's apple, tried to ignore the way that it bobbed at the movement. She tried to forget the taste of him, the way she had nipped at the tender skin just so when they had been –

"Why are you here, sweetheart? Truthfully," his interruption to her inner monologue made her blush a pretty shade of red. If he noticed, he didn't bother to acknowledge her embarrassment. Klaus wore a guarded expression and she knew that he expected the worst from her.

"I wanted to see you," she replied simply, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. He looked at her silently. She felt uncomfortable under his stare. It was so unrelenting but still she persisted. "I know that I haven't exactly been the easiest person to get a straight answer from. I think the truth is that I hardly know what I want anymore. I'm confused by not wanting to let go of the life that I know and the life that I want. Because what I know and what I want – they're so conflicting, so confusing and I guess I don't really know how to sort the two of them out."

"So you're here to what? Figure it out?" Klaus asked, his face unreadable after her hurried confession. She felt so stupid, looking at him now and hearing the mistrust, the slight indifference in his voice.

Caroline closed her eyes. She would not cry. This had been a possibility from the start. She knew that he could turn her away. And now he was. His voice told her he was.

"Nothing," she mumbled, an embarrassed blush on her cheeks. "Forget I was ever here."

She turned to leave, humiliation burning in her eyes. His hand stopped her. She felt the warmth of his palm as it wrapped around her wrist. She didn't try to pull away, didn't try to run like her head screamed at her to. Instead she waited, her breath coming out in short rasps as she fought to regain some semblance of composure. She was Caroline Forbes; former Miss Mystic Falls, not a simpering nervous wreck. Klaus Mikaelson would not render her into one of those girls. She was stronger than that.

"I'm sorry," his breath tickled the back of her neck. Caroline found herself closing her eyes at the sensation.

"So am I," she whispered quietly. His hand relaxed around her wrist but he did not let go.

It was easier this way. Caroline felt as if she could say what she had wanted to from the beginning now that her back was turned, now that she didn't have to look into his eyes. It was strange but she felt almost calm. Perhaps it was his touch, the gentle rub of his thumb as it glided comfortingly over her wrist. He would not hurt her. He never could.

"I missed you," she breathed out softly. "More than I should have. I missed _you_ and I regret... I regret telling you to leave. _That_ is why I'm here," his grip on her wrist tightened.

She had stolen his breath. Caroline smiled at the thought.

Slowly, she turned around and looked at him so unguardedly that he could do naught but stare. He had stolen her breath just as she had stolen his. He was evil, volatile, dark and brooding, impulsive in his anger and downright unrepentant in his rage. And yet, for all that, she cared about him, perhaps even loved him. Caroline suspected that a part of her always had. It had simply taken the sight of him with another woman to spark that realisation.

Caroline's eyes widened then as she remembered the redhead in the alleyway. "I know that I should have called ahead. I mean, it's good manners and all but –"

"I don't care. I'm just happy that you're here, love," Klaus interrupted her, his hand moving to touch her hair. She fought the urge to lean in to his touch.

"No. I mean, I'm happy that you're happy that I'm here," she started hurriedly, smiling at his answering grin. "But I did tell you to move on with your life the last time that I saw you. I told you to leave and never come back and basically that I never wanted to see you again, so... I guess that I'm saying that I understand if you have moved on and that there is someone else."

Klaus laughed at her then. Caroline knew that she was rambling, knew that she was avoiding the obvious but from the way that he looked at her, from the way his eyes seemed to dance in amusement, she wondered if she should just leave well enough alone. Then again, she was Caroline Forbes.

"I saw you with another woman earlier. You were outside and well, I kind of just...left. I didn't want to interrupt!" she blurted out hurriedly, watching as his eyes widened in surprise. There was something in them that she could not place; Caroline wanted to say it was fear, but that wasn't quite right. "It's ok. I mean, you can see who you like. You're not bound to me or anything like that so, I'm not upset. Not really. I mean, okay maybe I was a little bit upset but I get it. I do. So if my being here is bad for you then I can leave. I can –"

"You are perfect and I want you here, with me, regardless of what it means for the life that I have built for myself and my family here," he interrupted her, taking her head between his hands. His eyes held her captive, their intensity rendering her immobile. "I will not lie to you and say that I did not try to dispel the image of you from my mind. Genevieve was a distraction."

She shook her head, trying to pull free from his grasp but he would not relent. Her mind conjured up images of exactly how Klaus had tried to dispel her memory. She wanted to hit him. She wanted to kiss him. Caroline wanted to believe that what he said was true but a small part of her, a sliver of her old self, screamed inside her head of lies and pretty words. Her old insecurities began to take hold, something that Klaus seemed to instinctively sense.

"I want _you_, Caroline. Just you," Klaus persisted.

Caroline breathed out brokenly. She sniffed as he wiped away the few stray tears that had escaped at his confession.

"Just me?" she asked disbelievingly.

Klaus smiled. "Just you."

And she believed him.

Caroline smiled brilliantly then, relieved laughter tumbling from her lips. Acceptance. Love. She could scarcely breathe from the happiness that overwhelmed her at _not _being turned away.

A weight had lifted from her eyes as she teasingly shoved Klaus in the shoulder. He smiled down at her like she was the loveliest thing he had ever seen. Maybe she was.

"You know I'm only here for the break," she stated teasingly, moving to catch his hand as it tried to curl into her hair once more. "I do have to go back."

"We'll see."

* * *

Elijah stared down at his phone.

He tried to believe that Niklaus would not be so reckless. He wanted to believe that his brother had at least considered some other alternative. But of course, that would be so unlike Niklaus, to actually think before he took action. The ramifications were grave indeed. There would be no easy solution, no believability to whatever lie he would have to concoct.

Still, as he peered out the window of the quaint little coffee shop he had taken refuge in, his newspaper left open and unread, Elijah watched the blonde girl smile as his brother took her hand, practically dragging the poor girl down the street with a boyish enthusiasm that he had not seen in over a thousand years. Elijah could hardly remember the last time he had seen such a genuine smile grace his brother's face.

But still he wondered. Had he made the right decision, calling his brother ahead of the blonde's arrival?

Staring down at his phone once more, Elijah pursed his lips.

_I am taking Caroline on a tour of the French Quarter. There is a present waiting for you back at my apartment. Try the closet. I'm sure you will be equally happy and horrified. Please deal with it. _

Yes, it would be so unlike Niklaus to actually think for a change.

Elijah sighed, tired and worried. Niklaus had always had the tendency to eliminate that which he saw as a threat, regardless of thought or consequence. Genevieve was a threat to his happiness. But she had been a powerful player in a game neither of them had won quite yet. New Orleans was on the brink of peace. Yes, the treaty had held that peace for a time but it was shaky at best. To eliminate the leader of the witches, to actually force a change among the council could prove futile.

Elijah wondered not for the first time since receiving his brother's message if he had made the wrong decision. This Miss Forbes was beautiful and she seemed to genuinely care for Niklaus, but at what cost? What would he do when the knowledge of Hayley and Eva's existence threatened that happiness? What would he do if this girl, this Caroline Forbes from Mystic Fall, rejected the idea of them?

Elijah shuddered at the thought.

* * *

**What did you think? Hopefully it wasn't too horrible. **

**Now while this is the end of **Beautiful War** fear not, because I do have a sequel in the works. **

**It should be out hopefully within a week or two. So keep an eye out for **Thistle & Weeds**, part two of the Black Hearts series. **

**Thank you all again so much!**

**I hope you enjoyed the ride :)**


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